ChipNASA:Skarekrough: My claim to fame is having one of my posts become a "Best Of."

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847227.html

Blocked at work....can someone post or is it TLFF?? (Too long For Fark?)

An open letter to a fruitflyDear Fruitfly,

I understand your proclivity to hang around the office. Things can get pretty messy around here and when it gets busy it's pretty likely a banana or apple will sit too long and be a haven for you and your hundred other friends that have infested the office.

And I hope you enjoyed your stay up until the past few days when I cleaned things up a bit and you probably saw you and your offsprings lifespan come to a grinding halt.

I know we have been at odds, and nothing was more obvious than when I took a swipe at you as you dive-bombed the hot cup of coffee I'd just poured for myself. I was potecting my livelihood, my coffee and you were drawn to the heat...or whatever. Either way we were at odds again and I really felt it was a nice setup for us; my non-caffeinated swipes were artfully dodged. Indeed, you probably had the upper hand.

But drowning yourself in my coffee was uncalled for you farking prick. By the time I saw your carcass make the tiny splashdown to my unsuccessful attempts to fish your cadaver out with my finger I realized you'd made a crucial step in our relationship with little to no consideration for what my recourse could possibly be.

As the Father of a newborn I operate on a few very vital elements these days; coffee and mostly bad Discovery Channel reruns. The reruns can come and go. But the coffee...oh you're farking with something sacred now.

Consider the family you know and love in this office dead. You'll be meeting them in Fruitfly heaven. Ask them how I nuked the kitchen with Bleach and then put up no-fly strips. Ask them about the WD-40 and the lighter.

You worthless prick...death is too farking good for you. Even though I dumped your cadaver down the sink I'm half tempted to turn the garbage disposal on for a good ten minutes just to let you know how I feel.

You may have shuffled off your mortal coil....but this shiat isn't over. Not by a longshot.

ChipNASA:Skarekrough: My claim to fame is having one of my posts become a "Best Of."

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847227.html

Blocked at work....can someone post or is it TLFF?? (Too long For Fark?)

to the dealer i gave head to sat night - w4m - 23 (rivers casino)I waited for you until you got done with work and gave you a blowjob in your car. You were a horny little fella and came quick in my mouth. I just wanted to let you know I am not a women, but if you are ok with it, I would love to put my machine gun in your ass, but if your not its ok, it will be our little secret. I hope you see this.Location: rivers casinoit's ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interestsI just threw up in my mouth. A lot.

sethen320:ChipNASA: Skarekrough: My claim to fame is having one of my posts become a "Best Of."

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847227.html

Blocked at work....can someone post or is it TLFF?? (Too long For Fark?)

An open letter to a fruitflyDear Fruitfly,

I understand your proclivity to hang around the office. Things can get pretty messy around here and when it gets busy it's pretty likely a banana or apple will sit too long and be a haven for you and your hundred other friends that have infested the office.

And I hope you enjoyed your stay up until the past few days when I cleaned things up a bit and you probably saw you and your offsprings lifespan come to a grinding halt.

I know we have been at odds, and nothing was more obvious than when I took a swipe at you as you dive-bombed the hot cup of coffee I'd just poured for myself. I was potecting my livelihood, my coffee and you were drawn to the heat...or whatever. Either way we were at odds again and I really felt it was a nice setup for us; my non-caffeinated swipes were artfully dodged. Indeed, you probably had the upper hand.

But drowning yourself in my coffee was uncalled for you farking prick. By the time I saw your carcass make the tiny splashdown to my unsuccessful attempts to fish your cadaver out with my finger I realized you'd made a crucial step in our relationship with little to no consideration for what my recourse could possibly be.

As the Father of a newborn I operate on a few very vital elements these days; coffee and mostly bad Discovery Channel reruns. The reruns can come and go. But the coffee...oh you're farking with something sacred now.

Consider the family you know and love in this office dead. You'll be meeting them in Fruitfly heaven. Ask them how I nuked the kitchen with Bleach and then put up no-fly strips. Ask them about the WD-40 and the lighter.

You worthless prick...death is too farking good for you. Even though I dumped your cadaver down the sink I'm half tempted to turn t ...

Very very nice......you're a natural born Fark poet....and F*UCK Fruit Flies.

violetvolume:I love missed connections so much. I read them all the time-- there are some real gems.

Like this one: http://pittsburgh.craigslist.org/mis/3675480392.html

Since some of you jackholes are at work....

to the dealer i gave head to sat night - w4m - 23 (rivers casino)I waited for you until you got done with work and gave you a blowjob in your car. You were a horny little fella and came quick in my mouth. I just wanted to let you know I am not a women, but if you are ok with it, I would love to put my machine gun in your ass, but if your not its ok, it will be our little secret. I hope you see this.

ChipNASA:sethen320: ChipNASA: Skarekrough: My claim to fame is having one of my posts become a "Best Of."

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847227.html

Blocked at work....can someone post or is it TLFF?? (Too long For Fark?)

An open letter to a fruitflyDear Fruitfly,

I understand your proclivity to hang around the office. Things can get pretty messy around here and when it gets busy it's pretty likely a banana or apple will sit too long and be a haven for you and your hundred other friends that have infested the office.

And I hope you enjoyed your stay up until the past few days when I cleaned things up a bit and you probably saw you and your offsprings lifespan come to a grinding halt.

I know we have been at odds, and nothing was more obvious than when I took a swipe at you as you dive-bombed the hot cup of coffee I'd just poured for myself. I was potecting my livelihood, my coffee and you were drawn to the heat...or whatever. Either way we were at odds again and I really felt it was a nice setup for us; my non-caffeinated swipes were artfully dodged. Indeed, you probably had the upper hand.

But drowning yourself in my coffee was uncalled for you farking prick. By the time I saw your carcass make the tiny splashdown to my unsuccessful attempts to fish your cadaver out with my finger I realized you'd made a crucial step in our relationship with little to no consideration for what my recourse could possibly be.

As the Father of a newborn I operate on a few very vital elements these days; coffee and mostly bad Discovery Channel reruns. The reruns can come and go. But the coffee...oh you're farking with something sacred now.

Consider the family you know and love in this office dead. You'll be meeting them in Fruitfly heaven. Ask them how I nuked the kitchen with Bleach and then put up no-fly strips. Ask them about the WD-40 and the lighter.

You worthless prick...death is too farking good for you. Even though I dumped your cadaver down the sink I'm half tempte ...

Thank you, but that wasn't me. I was reposting it for someone upthread who said they couldn't view it. Your compliment should be aimed at Skarekrough.

I understand you had your reasons for doing what you did. You see us as pests. You believe you live above us in a vast world that teams with so much life, it is possible that you will never be able to fully grasp all that exists around you. But, I need you to know that those you murdered were loved and held dear to me.

We were happy when father moved us from our dumpster-dwelling life in this city's back alleys to a sweet, climate-controlled office gig. We were so proud of him for finally achieving the executive status we knew he deserved. The food was much fresher as office scraps tend to be when people of your station eat in haste with their busy lives. Indeed, there was more to go around than our large family could consume, and, many times, I thought about going back to the dumpster of my youth to tell my friends that we had found our little slice of heaven. Mother, on the other hand, told us not to share. "They'll come in droves, and they'll have this place fumigated if you invite everyone you know," she always said.

So, we kept our secret, and we were happy in our lives behind Janice's desk. Our family grew with our father's success. We grew by so many. So many children, I can't even count them all. I don't know how father managed it. It must have taken a toll. Raising thousands of offspring is no small feat, as I'm sure you're well aware. After all, as a father yourself, I'm sure your one or two children take a lot out of you.

My father wasn't a perfect fruit-fly. He had his demons, but he kept them from inferring with his love for us. There was the time he found some crumbs of Janice's rum cake from the holiday party where you photocopied your face. He wasn't the same after that. The monkey was on his back, and with so many children, he had no choice but to turn to coffee. It started with a few drops that Paul was always dripping by the machine, but soon that wasn't enough.

I'm surprised he chose you. Father always spoke very well of you. Maybe he thought you were friendlier than you really are. With the smack in his system, his judgment was probably off. When he decided to dive into your coffee mug, please know that he was a desperate fly toward the end there.

sethen320:ChipNASA: Skarekrough: My claim to fame is having one of my posts become a "Best Of."

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847227.html

Blocked at work....can someone post or is it TLFF?? (Too long For Fark?)

An open letter to a fruitflyDear Fruitfly,

I understand your proclivity to hang around the office. Things can get pretty messy around here and when it gets busy it's pretty likely a banana or apple will sit too long and be a haven for you and your hundred other friends that have infested the office.

And I hope you enjoyed your stay up until the past few days when I cleaned things up a bit and you probably saw you and your offsprings lifespan come to a grinding halt.

I know we have been at odds, and nothing was more obvious than when I took a swipe at you as you dive-bombed the hot cup of coffee I'd just poured for myself. I was potecting my livelihood, my coffee and you were drawn to the heat...or whatever. Either way we were at odds again and I really felt it was a nice setup for us; my non-caffeinated swipes were artfully dodged. Indeed, you probably had the upper hand.

But drowning yourself in my coffee was uncalled for you farking prick. By the time I saw your carcass make the tiny splashdown to my unsuccessful attempts to fish your cadaver out with my finger I realized you'd made a crucial step in our relationship with little to no consideration for what my recourse could possibly be.

As the Father of a newborn I operate on a few very vital elements these days; coffee and mostly bad Discovery Channel reruns. The reruns can come and go. But the coffee...oh you're farking with something sacred now.

Consider the family you know and love in this office dead. You'll be meeting them in Fruitfly heaven. Ask them how I nuked the kitchen with Bleach and then put up no-fly strips. Ask them about the WD-40 and the lighter.

You worthless prick...death is too farking good for you. Even though I dumped your cadaver down the sink I'm half tempted to turn t ...

They always seemed kind of flimsy to me. If you're really going to want to knock her off her feet, you're going to need to use something with a little more heft to it. Two-by-fours are a solid choice, but it's way too easy to over swing with them, and then that date you were so looking forward to having has suddenly turned into a body dump.

i've considered using missed connections before, but i figure it's a waste of time. has anyone ever tracked down a missed connection through craigslist? it seems like the odds would be ridiculously high that the person you're looking for would happen to stumble upon your craigslist ad and you could find them that way.

enderthexenocide:i've considered using missed connections before, but i figure it's a waste of time. has anyone ever tracked down a missed connection through craigslist? it seems like the odds would be ridiculously high that the person you're looking for would happen to stumble upon your craigslist ad and you could find them that way.

I doubt they are ridiculously high...probably ridiculously nonexistent.

enderthexenocide:i've considered using missed connections before, but i figure it's a waste of time. has anyone ever tracked down a missed connection through craigslist? it seems like the odds would be ridiculously high that the person you're looking for would happen to stumble upon your craigslist ad and you could find them that way.

If you really want to keep yourself up at nights, you should start thinking that, maybe, someone out there wrote a missed connection about YOU, and you just haven't found it yet.

I understand you had your reasons for doing what you did. You see us as pests. You believe you live above us in a vast world that teams with so much life, it is possible that you will never be able to fully grasp all that exists around you. But, I need you to know that those you murdered were loved and held dear to me.

We were happy when father moved us from our dumpster-dwelling life in this city's back alleys to a sweet, climate-controlled office gig. We were so proud of him for finally achieving the executive status we knew he deserved. The food was much fresher as office scraps tend to be when people of your station eat in haste with their busy lives. Indeed, there was more to go around than our large family could consume, and, many times, I thought about going back to the dumpster of my youth to tell my friends that we had found our little slice of heaven. Mother, on the other hand, told us not to share. "They'll come in droves, and they'll have this place fumigated if you invite everyone you know," she always said.

So, we kept our secret, and we were happy in our lives behind Janice's desk. Our family grew with our father's success. We grew by so many. So many children, I can't even count them all. I don't know how father managed it. It must have taken a toll. Raising thousands of offspring is no small feat, as I'm sure you're well aware. After all, as a father yourself, I'm sure your one or two children take a lot out of you.

My father wasn't a perfect fruit-fly. He had his demons, but he kept them from inferring with his love for us. There was the time he found some crumbs of Janice's rum cake from the holiday party where you photocopied your face. He wasn't the same after that. The monkey was on his back, and with so many children, he had no choice but to turn to coffee. It started with a few drops that Paul was always dripping by the machine, but soon that wasn't enough.

scottydoesntknow:Mikey1969: I hope they have keyboards in heaven so you can write me back.

Is he writing this to the corpse, or something?

Yep. Pretty soon people will be wanting to marry dead bodies!

Just get the Supreme Court to redefine marriage and it's a done deal! If an unborn fetus is a "human" then why isn't fresh corpse meat likewise a viable person, especially since some people rise from the dead after three days?/Happy Easter!

Also please keep in mind that it's close to impossible to write a serious missed connection thing without being pathetic as hell.

Think about it -- would a truly worthy object of anyone's affection be likely to respond to something as wussy as a Craigslist missed connection post? What does it say about the writer -- 'hey, I'm a coward with no interpersonal skills'?? It's better to just grow a pair and be honest and upfront upon first meeting instead of slinking back to your keyboard in fear.

I understand you had your reasons for doing what you did. You see us as pests. You believe you live above us in a vast world that teams with so much life, it is possible that you will never be able to fully grasp all that exists around you. But, I need you to know that those you murdered were loved and held dear to me.

We were happy when father moved us from our dumpster-dwelling life in this city's back alleys to a sweet, climate-controlled office gig. We were so proud of him for finally achieving the executive status we knew he deserved. The food was much fresher as office scraps tend to be when people of your station eat in haste with their busy lives. Indeed, there was more to go around than our large family could consume, and, many times, I thought about going back to the dumpster of my youth to tell my friends that we had found our little slice of heaven. Mother, on the other hand, told us not to share. "They'll come in droves, and they'll have this place fumigated if you invite everyone you know," she always said.

So, we kept our secret, and we were happy in our lives behind Janice's desk. Our family grew with our father's success. We grew by so many. So many children, I can't even count them all. I don't know how father managed it. It must have taken a toll. Raising thousands of offspring is no small feat, as I'm sure you're well aware. After all, as a father yourself, I'm sure your one or two children take a lot out of you.

My father wasn't a perfect fruit-fly. He had his demons, but he kept them from inferring with his love for us. There was the time he found some crumbs of Janice's rum cake from the holiday party where you photocopied your face. He wasn't the same after that. The monkey was on his back, and with so many children, he had no choice but to turn to coffee. It started with a few drops that Paul was always dripping by the machine, but soon that wasn't enough.

I'm surpri ...

Bravo!! Second only to Archy the cockroach in insect literary efforts.

Vodka Zombie:Snarcoleptic_Hoosier: Picking up chicks with a Ouija board. This is a new strategy.

They always seemed kind of flimsy to me. If you're really going to want to knock her off her feet, you're going to need to use something with a little more heft to it. Two-by-fours are a solid choice, but it's way too easy to over swing with them, and then that date you were so looking forward to having has suddenly turned into a body dump.

The only time I've posted in Missed Connections, it went something like this:Me: Jogging shirtless in the afternoon, nice head of hair bouncing, skeletal physique sweating out the few pounds of flesh I have.You: Two girls in the front of a car driving and asking appreciatively if I needed a ride, driving home after HS.

Just one problem kids: You didn't notice the sasquatch man-fur all over my body which tells you I'm old enough to have kids your age. Now I like the looks, and the attitude, of you both. But sadly we're going to have to wait until you're old enough that your parents won't react like I just broke their thinnest China plates.

And to the kid in the back seat yelling "Sorry! They're assholes! Sorry!" you're a funny young man. I hope you're farking both of them, I hope that's what you were doing riding home with them. I like you - you're allowed to fark my future concubines. But only until the end of the schoolyear when they become my property.

I understand you had your reasons for doing what you did. You see us as pests. You believe you live above us in a vast world that teams with so much life, it is possible that you will never be able to fully grasp all that exists around you. But, I need you to know that those you murdered were loved and held dear to me.

We were happy when father moved us from our dumpster-dwelling life in this city's back alleys to a sweet, climate-controlled office gig. We were so proud of him for finally achieving the executive status we knew he deserved. The food was much fresher as office scraps tend to be when people of your station eat in haste with their busy lives. Indeed, there was more to go around than our large family could consume, and, many times, I thought about going back to the dumpster of my youth to tell my friends that we had found our little slice of heaven. Mother, on the other hand, told us not to share. "They'll come in droves, and they'll have this place fumigated if you invite everyone you know," she always said.

So, we kept our secret, and we were happy in our lives behind Janice's desk. Our family grew with our father's success. We grew by so many. So many children, I can't even count them all. I don't know how father managed it. It must have taken a toll. Raising thousands of offspring is no small feat, as I'm sure you're well aware. After all, as a father yourself, I'm sure your one or two children take a lot out of you.

My father wasn't a perfect fruit-fly. He had his demons, but he kept them from inferring with his love for us. There was the time he found some crumbs of Janice's rum cake from the holiday party where you photocopied your face. He wasn't the same after that. The monkey was on his back, and with so many children, he had no choice but to turn to coffee. It started with a few drops that Paul was always dripping by the machine, but soon that wasn't enough.

When I walked into your store that fateful Tuesday, I expected only to find a smattering of half-decent titles tucked back there amongst the used 360 games. Instead I found you, surrounded by a beam of light, halfway between Assassin's Creed and Call of Duty 3. Your gorgeous dark hair was radiant in contrast with the rainbow of colors on the deluxe Bioshock behind you. The Game of the Year held no interest for me when I saw you look up and smile, even though both could hold me in Rapture.

You commanded the register when it was my turn to check out with the Orange Box. Yes, I was finally getting to play Portal. Lucky me, you said with the cutest smile. Lucky me, I thought, and then knew you had the Portal to my heart. I could care less if the cake is a lie, I'd still want to share it with you.

Oh GameStop Girl, how you make my heart meter skip a beat. If you were being held captive in a mountain fortress by a ruthless mutant mafia gangboss and I had to fight my way through 16 levels of fire-breathing undead ninjas with swords the size of small ponies, I would find a way, even if, after every level, a small man continued to taunt me by saying that you were in another castle. EVEN IF.

So, yes, GameStop Girl, I want to kill robotic zombie terrorists with you. You can even have the deluxe shotgun with explosive scattershot. I'll just use this knife over here. I'll do anything for you, just for the small, slightest chance that someday - someday - you and me could be a Wii.

Though I did once cause a car accident once with my exceptional attractiveness, so that's something, I suppose. I was walking home from the gym and a woman driving towards me was so busy checking me out that she rear-ended the car in front of her. I was just a little bump, nothing serious. I was rather flattered.

/Of course, I suppose she could have just been struck dumb by my terrible fashion-sense.//Not everybody with a 13 and a half dick can carry-off neon yellow spandex bike shorts.